


The Gift

by naps4bats



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:22:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23402182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naps4bats/pseuds/naps4bats
Summary: Alternative version of Season 3 in which Erik survives and finds his way back to Aethelflaed.
Relationships: Aethelflaed Lady of Mercia/Erik Thurgilson
Comments: 38
Kudos: 87





	1. Chapter 1

_Mercia_

“Is there anything you need, lady? Another candle?”

Aethelflaed looked up at her servant and only then did she realize how late the hour was. The room had grown dark around her. She blinked her eyes, which were strained from by the dim light of the dying candle. It must be well into the evening.

“No, Estrith, thank you. I should cease my work for the night. I imagine supper will be ready soon?”

Estrith looked at her oddly. “Supper has been ready for hours, lady. I came to fetch you but you sent me away.”

Aethelflaed sighed deeply. She must have sounded annoyed, because Estrith looked worried.

“Should I have brought it to you, lady? Or insisted?”

“No, no,” Aethelflaed tried to speak reassuringly, “It was my own mistake. You did exactly what I asked of you. Perhaps you could see that some food is brought to my chamber?”

Estrith nodded and exited the library.

Aethelflaed stood and was suddenly aware of the stiffness in her limbs. She had been hunched over the table for too long, too engrossed in the ledgers. She had lost sense of time and of her physical needs. This had become a habit ever since she had come to stay at to her personal estate in the east of Mercia. Without the obligations of her family or her husband, she had retreated into her work. It was easier to manage trades and taxes than it was to manage her own grief.

Because as much as Aethelflaed wished otherwise, she was still grieving. It had been more than a year since she had left Beomfleet. Fourteen months since she had watched Erik die at his brother’s hands. Thirteen months since she had bled too long and too much, as every trace of her hoped-for family had left her body. She did not have the space to mourn then. Aethelred had been demanding, eager to prove to everyone what an attentive and devoted husband he was after he had lost his own wife in battle. And her parents and siblings had been overjoyed at Aethelflaed’s return. She could not let on that she was heartbroken, not in the face of their relief. She had folded up her grief tight and small, pushed it deep into her heart, pretended it wasn’t heavy enough to drag her down a little every day.

When the sheen of Aethelflaed’s return had worn off, she had insisted on leaving Winchester and Aethelred for the peace of a rural estate. He had not protested: he had his own life to live without her interference and he had spies to keep track of her in his absence.

But when she finally found herself alone, Aethelflaed’s grief had caught up with her. Long, quiet days offered too much time and space to remember: Erik’s gentle smile, the feel of his rough, strong hands on her skin, the whispered-plans they had made in the darkness. She could not shed those memories. She could only distract herself.

And so she worked. She focused so hard on ledgers and maps that she forgot to eat, drink, and stretch. Timid Estrith had just recently come into her service, and the poor girl didn’t know what to do about her hermit of a lady. Each evening, when Aethelflaed unfolded herself from the desk, she vowed to be more alive in the morning. And each night, the memories caught up to her, a cruel reminder of what she had lost.

But tonight, she had something to look forward to. Uhtred would be arriving tomorrow. He had sent word that he was visiting, passing through on his way south after visiting his brother Ragnar. Aethelflaed was relieved and excited at the prospect of seeing her old friend and trusted ally. He was one of the few people in this world who knew what she had lost.

 _Maybe not tomorrow_ , she thought, when she opened a door to the courtyard. The rain was falling hard and fast. The roads would be a treacherous river of mud. Uhtred would be sheltering in a tavern with his men, not riding to meet her. Aethelflaed stared out at the rain, hoping its heavy sound would drown out her thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

_Beomfleet, the year before_

Erik looked out the small window at the grim, wet evening. The rain was falling in sheets and he could barely see the torches of the great hall. He let out a deep sigh.

“My mother feared I would die at sea, but she never saw this country. A man could drown just walking across a field.”

Aethelflaed smiled. The Danes and Northman complained about the weather often: too wet, too muddy, too dreary. They rarely seemed to realize that it was this rain that made the soil so rich and brought the bountiful harvests they so enjoyed.

Today, she appreciated the rain. Perhaps it would deter Erik from leaving so soon. She felt a strange twist in her chest whenever he left. She wanted him with her more and more, wanted his company, and–worst of all–wanted his touch. But he had not touched her since that kiss by the river under the bright moon. He visited her often, talked with her, brought her food and supplies, but he avoided any physical contact. He kept space between them. At first, she thought he had regretted the kiss and did not want her. But she was beginning to think he worried about pressuring her and did not wish her to feel trapped or pushed. He could not know that she had spent hours working it all through in her head, sifting through the torrent of feelings–her initial fear, her resentment towards her captors, her worry for her family and her countrymen–only to find that the desire for him was still there, strong and unyielding. But if Erik was set on being cautious, Aethelflaed would have to be daring.

“You know,” she said, standing up from her cot and moving across the cell, “the Saxons have a particular trick for managing rain such as this.”

Erik looked at her curiously. “And what is that? If you do not mind sharing your Saxon secrets with a lowly Northman.”

Aethelflaed leaned towards him conspiratorially. “We stay inside.”

He grinned then and she felt a surge of triumph. He turned to face her and picked up her playful tone. “I would not want to impose. A fine lady such as yourself should be much too busy.”

She smiled and drew close to him. Too close; she heard his breathing shift. “I would appreciate the company.” She leaned up and kiss him then, soft and tentative. He did not pull away. Emboldened, she kissed him again, this time bringing her arms up and resting her hands on his shoulders, her shaky, nervous fingers woven into the soft fur of his cloak.

“We would simply have to find a way to pass the time,” Aethelflaed whispered, drawing her head back to look him in the eyes.

Erik looked at her seriously, his eyes searching her face. She wondered if he was looking for any doubt. She kept her expression steady and sure. Finally, his eyes relaxed.

“I have some ideas,” he murmured, and kissed her, a long, deep kiss that would have sent her off kilter if he had not taken hold of her waist. It was a decisive kiss. He had recognized her desire and met it with his own.

Their embraces became more eager. He backed her towards the bed and she sat back, pulling him towards her. He planted kisses along the curve of her throat and the exposed skin at the neck of her dress. His right hand pushed up her skirt, gently stroking up her leg. He heard her gasp at the rough feel of his fingers against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and then–

They heard a hammering at the door and a loud, insistent voice. Dagfinn, calling for Erik. Erik groaned against Aethelflaed’s shoulder, and she–fully aware of how wanton she must appear–grasped his arms, willing him not to go.

More knocks at the door. Erik shouted back in Norse, assuring Dagfinn that he had heard him. He turned back to Aethelflaed and kissed her one more time. “I will be back. As soon as I can.”

She nodded and eased her grip on his arms, letting him slide away from her.

He exhaled deeply, attempting to shed his pent-up desire and his frustration with his kinsmen. And then he left.

* * *

Aethelflaed woke to the sound of the door opening. She was immediately tense, bracing for a fight, but she relaxed when she heard Erik’s voice.

“It is only me, lady. Nothing to fear.”

He walked across the small cell, shedding his boots, cloak, and leather tunic. He eased into the bed beside her, and for a moment Aethelflaed was surprised. This was so intimate, especially after he had avoided touching her for days. But then she caught the scent of him, a reassuring mix of rain and wood smoke, and felt his hard frame soften against her body, and she felt safe.

“Is it late?” she asked, beginning to make out his features in the darkness.

“Yes, too late. Go back to sleep.”

He wrapped his arm around her, drawing her up against his chest. His clothes were cold and damp and she savoured the contrast with his warm body. Within a few moments she heard his breath shift as he fell asleep.

* * *

She must have dozed off. This time she was awakened by a crack of thunder, followed by more rain, pounding louder and harder against the roof of the small building. She heard Erik sigh beside her, and she turned over to face him. He was awake.

“Are there storms like this in Norway?” Aethelflaed asked, snuggling against him.

“Rarely. This time of year, there is only snow. Days and days of steady snowfall. It covers the whole landscape and everything is muted. It is peaceful.”

“But dark, yes? I heard the sun hides all winter.”

Erik smiled. “Yes, the nights are long. Impossibly long, sometimes. But there are warm fires in crowded halls. Everyone keeps close to each other and we share stories and songs.” He shifted to put his arm around her, so she was lying against his chest. “And on certain nights, the sky is bright with lights. Not stars or the moon, but colourful lights–greens and pinks that streak across the sky and hum into the night.”

Aethelflaed sighed. “That sounds beautiful.”

“It is.”

“If you love Norway, why did you come here? To England?”

“To rescue beautiful Saxon women from boorish Saxon men,” Erik teased, nuzzling into her neck. Aethelflaed giggled in spite of herself and squirmed against him.

When they had settled, Erik spoke again, his tone more serious. “I did not leave home to come to England. I left for adventure and riches and glory. All the things I was taught gave me worth. Those ambitions have brought me here, far from my home and my snow and my lights. I used to wonder if it was worth it. Now that you are here beside me, I believe it was.”

His words were like an offering and Aethelflaed felt honoured to receive them. How strange it was, to be in this small bed in a damp cell in a camp full of enemies, and to feel such contentment. Erik pulled her close to kiss her and she gave herself over to her desire. And for the first time since her wedding day, she felt a surge of hope.


	3. Chapter 3

_Mercia, Present_

Uhtred arrived in the early afternoon. Aethelflaed could sense his presence before he was announced: the estate was suddenly abuzz with motion and gossip. The arrival of the Dane-slayer and his unusual crew was a welcome interruption to the monotony of life at the estate.

Aethelflaed stood and stretched in anticipation of Uhtred. She went to the washbasin in the corner and attempted to scrub the ink stains from her hands, to little effect. She was becoming more and more like her father, whose hands were chronically spattered with ink. She sighed, drying her hands on a cloth and turning to greet Estrith.

“Lord Uhtred is here to see you, lady.”

“Bring him in, Estrith. And tell the kitchen we will need supper for the lord and his men. Be sure they have a warm place to sit and ale to drink in the meantime.”

Estrith nodded and left the room, holding the door for Uhtred to enter.

Aethelflaed grinned and rushed across the room to embrace her old friend. He smiled and folded her into a bear hug, lifting her clean off her feet. When he put her down she took a step back.

“Let me look at you, Uhtred.”

He allowed himself to be surveyed. He had changed the style of his hair and there were yet more scars and lines marking his face, but he had the same sharp eyes and broad smirk.

“You are too handsome for such an old warrior,” she said, feigning disappointment.

“Who are you calling old?” he objected, playfully swatting at her. “And you, lady. You look well.” He frowned slightly. “Though too thin. Do you ever eat?”

“At least once a day. Estrith insists on it.”

Uhtred shook his head in disapproval. “While I am here, you will eat three times a day. Four, if I ask it. I am your guest and you will not refuse me.”

Aethelflaed rolled her eyes, a habit she had picked up from him. She remembered how it used to infuriate her mother, who hated any reminder of the heathen warrior who served her husband and befriended her daughter.

“Why are you here, Uhtred? Not that I am not pleased to see you. But I am sure you want to return home to your family.”

“Never too busy for you, Lady Aethelflaed. But I do come with a purpose,” he paused and took a deep breath. She was suddenly nervous, her body tense with anticipation. “I have brought you a gift.”

That was unexpected. “A gift? What sort of gift? And why do you sound like you are about to upset me?”

Uhtred sighed and ran his hand over his face. “I give too much away. I should just get on with it, not make you wait.”

She opened her mouth to speak but he turned away, walking towards the door and opening it. He spoke to someone outside, but she could not hear the words.

A man stepped into the room. It took a moment for Aethelflaed to recognize him, and then a longer, excruciating moment for her to understand. Erik. Her Erik. Here, alive, within reach. It was not possible.

“Hello, Lady Aethelflaed.”

That same husky voice. His accent shaping her name into a more beautiful sound. It could not be real. Aethelflaed was speechless.

“I will leave you two.” Uhtred quickly exited the room, shutting the door behind him.

They were alone. They were alone and he was here and alive and _it could not be real_.

“No,” Aethelflaed spoke at last, “no. You died. I saw you die.”

Erik responded softly. “You saw me hurt. Badly. But I recovered. I lived.”

She should have felt relief and happiness but there was only confusion and pain. It was as though she were losing him all over again. “No. This does not make sense. This cannot be. You died, Erik, I lost you.”

“It was a misunderstanding. I was very badly injured. Left for dead. But I am here, Aethelflaed. I am alive.” He approached her and inexplicably she backed up, leaning against the table for support. Erik recognized her discomfort and stopped, leaving space between them.

“I do not understand. If you lived, then where did you go? Where have you been? If you lived, then why did I mourn for you?” Aethelflaed was upset, overwhelmed with a flurry of emotions.

There was a curt knock on the door and then Estrith opened it, balancing a tray on her hip. Erik and Aethelflaed looked up at the intruder. Estrith’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Apologies, lady, I thought you were alone. Excuse me.” The servant retreated quickly, fumbling to close the door while the tray shook in her hands.

The interruption broke the momentum of confusion and pain, and Aethelflaed was finally in control. It seemed to strike her all at once: Erik, alive, in front of her. She rushed at him then, the force of her embrace pushing him off balance.

“Thank God you are here,” she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder, “Thank God you are alive.”

He recovered his balance and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “I am here. At last, I am here.”


	4. Chapter 4

Aethelflaed led Erik to the table and the two sat, their bodies turned towards each other, Erik leaning across to smooth the hair out of her face. But they could not get close enough and she soon became frustrated and dragged him down to the floor. They sat with their backs against the cool stone wall, she half in his lap, their limbs tangled. They alternated between kissing, talking, and gazing at each other, trying to take in the miracle of this reunion. In her eagerness to caress him and speak to him, it took Aethelflaed a while to notice the scars on Erik’s face: beginning on his cheek and running back to his ragged ear. In fact, she did not see them at first but felt them, the skin unexpectedly smooth under her fingers after the rough stubble of his beard.

“From that night?” she asked, her hand tracing the scars and cupping the back of his head.

Erik nodded. “Burns, from the hall. I lost consciousness, bleeding out from the sword wound. I must have looked dead. No one thought to drag me free of the fire.”

“How on earth did you survive?”

He laughed. “The gods were on my side, I suppose. I became trapped under a section of wall that collapsed. That wood, damp from the rain, managed to shelter me from the flames. When I finally regained consciousness, I was able to find my shield where it had fallen beside me. I banged it on the wood hoping someone would hear it. I could not make a sound; my throat was raw from the smoke. But the battle had died down by then, so many had fled, and I was heard. One of my men dug me out from the rubble. Somehow, I made it until morning. And then I just kept living.”

Aethelflaed could not help but stroke the strange skin scarred from those flames. But this time, Erik flinched under her touch.

“I must look fearsome.”

“No, no. You are still the most handsome man I have ever known.”

His smile was almost shy. Aethelflaed pulled him in for a fierce kiss.

“I have so many questions. Where have you been? Why didn’t you come to me sooner? Why have you come now? But you must be tired of talking. Do you have questions for me?”

Erik held Aethelflaed’s hand between his and seemed to be inspecting it. He finally looked up at her, but kept hold of her hand, his thumb drawing soothing circles on her palm.

“Uhtred told me a great deal about you during our journey. I know that you are still married. I know that you have no children, his or mine. I know you have kept to yourself for many months. I think I have more to answer for than you do. So I suppose I will do the bulk of the talking, at least for now.”

He exhaled and pulled her close, so her back rested against his chest. It was easier to explain without her deep, inquisitive eyes on him.

“For a long time after the battle, I was not well enough to walk, let alone lead. My men, the few that were left, took control. We had a ship and we sailed away. We went from port to port for awhile and they found healers to treat me. But the men grew tired of war and travel, and they wanted to settle, at least for a while. One of them had fought with Ragnar the Younger, back in Ireland. He believed his old lord would welcome us. So we journeyed to Dunholme to serve Ragnar.

“Ragnar is a good lord. A good man, like your Uhtred. He was wary of me but he saw how weak I was and how diligently my men had cared for me. He allowed us to stay. I recovered in Dunholme, built up my strength. Many months passed before I could even consider travelling on my own. And after all that had occurred, I could not ask my men to journey with me to seek you out, Aethelflaed. You understand? They had sacrificed so much for me already. I could not ask more of them and I could not go alone.”

She nodded and clutched his hands in her lap.

“And in truth, I was still a little broken. If not in body then in spirit. Losing you. Losing Sigefrid. Because of my own selfish desires. It was–” he paused and took a deep breath, “It shook me. I lost my confidence. I did not trust myself anymore.

“Last month, Uhtred arrived to visit his brother. I avoided him at first, like a coward. But Dunholme is not so large and Brida was eager to share the news of the disgraced Northman in their fortress. Eventually Uhtred and I spoke. He was angry with me. Of course he was, after all the chaos I had caused. But that was not why–he was angry with me for not coming to you. He told me about you: that you were still under the thumb of your bastard husband. That you believed me to be dead. He said that you were still mourning me and that it was cruel of me to prolong your grief. I did not believe him, at first. I thought you were better off without me. But Uhtred insisted that I owed you the truth. That I should return with him.

“And so I came. My men are happy serving Ragnar and I am not fit to lead them. I am here, alone and scarred and half-broken, for you, my lady.”

Aethelflaed lifted his large hand to her lips, kissing his fingers one after the other. “I am grateful, Erik,” she whispered into the callused skin of his palm.


	5. Chapter 5

Eventually, in begrudging acknowledgement of their empty stomachs and stiff backs, Aethelflaed and Erik stood and left the solitude of the library. They joined Uhtred and his men in the hall, where Aethelflaed was warmly greeted by Finan, Osferth, and Sihtric. Aethelflaed took her seat at the head of the table and Erik found a place farther down, but her gaze was drawn to him, again and again, as if she needed to be sure that he was really so close. The men joked and laughed as usual, tactfully ignoring the pair’s late arrival and the emotional tension that hung between them. Once she had enjoyed a cup of mead and a story or two, Aethelflaed felt herself relax. After the social pressure of Winchester and her long months of isolation, it felt good to be surrounded by familiar faces. Here was a room full of men whom she cared for and trusted. Here she was safe.

Several hours later, Aethelflaed rose at last to do her rounds of the house. She sent Estrith to show the men to their rooms, giving careful instructions on who should be put where. She saw that the gates were secure and that her servants were well fed and relieved of their duties. She refilled the water bucket left out for the cats that roamed the property, hunting out mice. And she sat for a moment on the steps, waiting for the nightly arrival of her favourite cat: a scrawny black creature with an unreasonably fluffy tail. The cat, who she had yet to name, had made it a habit of visiting each evening looking for affection. Sometimes Aethelflaed brought scraps from the kitchen, but even when she came empty handed the cat seemed satisfied with having her chin scratched and belly rubbed. It seemed strange, with all these human guests, to keep her appointment with the cat. But Aethelflaed had come to depend on routine and this small creature had been loyal to her for so long. She loved to run her fingers through the thick fur, teasing out the mats while the cat purred, a steady reassuring rhythm.

When Aethelflaed finished her rounds and returned to the hall, the men had gone to bed. In the unexpected quiet, Aethelflaed felt the heaviness of the day. She was exhausted. But when she finally found herself lying in bed, sleep did not come. She lay in the dark, her mind a whirl of thoughts, feelings, and worries.

* * *

Erik woke to the sound of the door opening. It took a moment for him to recall where he was, but even when he recognized the fine room in the dim light, he was still tense, ready to defend himself. He thought quickly, going over the relevant details: his knife was within reach, on the table on the right side of his bed. His axe and sword were on the floor; he could grab them by stretching out, but he would have to shift his weight to the edge of the bed, and he was not sure he could do it quickly or quietly enough. The room was small and the intruder would reach the bed before he could grab his weapons. The knife, then, he decided, as he gripped the smooth wooden handle. The intruder would approach from the left and he could strike with the knife in his right hand and then go for his weapons.

His warrior’s mind was interrupted by a dull thud, followed by a mumbled curse in a woman’s voice.

“Aethelflaed?”

“Yes?”

Erik dropped the knife and laughed in relief. He could make out her shape now and she stumbled towards the bed, unsteady on her legs, and sat heavily on the mattress.

“Are you alright?”

“I hit my knee on the bed frame.”

Erik was bent over with laughter now.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“I am sorry,” he said, catching his breath, “I thought some bitter Saxon warrior had come to kill me in my sleep, but it was only you, losing a battle with a bed post.”

Aethelflaed shoved Erik in annoyance and he fell back on the bed, struggling to breathe through his laughter.

“It is not funny. It hurts quite badly. I might have a limp tomorrow!”

Her protests had no effect on his amusement. She took another tack. In a single fluid motion, she straddled him and took the knife from the mattress. She pinned him with one arm and held the other high, the knife pointed down at his chest.

“You should not laugh at me, Erik Thurgilson. You are not out of danger yet. I could destroy you if I wanted to.” She stared hard at him, doing her best to appear menacing.

He was quiet now, his face serious. But he did not look afraid. Instead, he looked up at her with something like devotion.

“I know it. No one could hurt me like you.”

She saw it then: her own grief, reflected in his eyes. He had lost so much because of her. He had resigned himself to a life without her. And then he had dared to seek her out. She put the knife down on the table but did not let him go, keeping him pressed into the bed first by her arm and then by her kisses and caresses. She vowed she would never let him go again.


	6. Chapter 6

Aethelflaed took a walk around her estate as usual, greeting all the residents, checking up on the work, and seeing what supplies were needed for future tasks. But today she was looking for something in particular. Or, more accurately, she was looking for absences. She knew Aethelred had spies among her people, but she did not know _who_. And that made it all the more difficult to know if someone had gone to her husband with news of her guests.

Aethelflaed paused to watch the household guard in their training. She leaned against the stable wall, carefully counting the men. Then she called over the leader of her guard.

“Halig, where is Osric? I do not see him among the men.”

Halig was surprised at his lady’s keen eye. “He was called away to visit a sick relative, lady. I allowed him to leave this morning. He said he would be back quite soon. I did not think it was worth bothering you, considering we had extra warriors on the estate with Uhtred’s arrival.”

Aethelflaed nodded and smiled approvingly. “That is true, Halig. Thank you. If you could let me know when Osric returns, I would be grateful. I would like to inquire about his relative, see if there is anything I can do.”

She bid him farewell and returned to the hall, where Erik and the others were sitting down to eat. Uhtred thrust a full plate towards her and sent her a pointed look. She rolled her eyes and began to eat the mountain of food he had set aside for her. It was true she did have more of an appetite today.

“How long can you stay, Lord Uhtred?”

Uhtred took a long sip of ale before answering. “That depends, lady, on if we are needed here. You will tell me your plan and I will tell you how I can help.”

Aethelflaed smiled across at him. “I appreciate your offer, Uhtred. I must admit I do not yet have a plan. But I will require you a few days more. I believe one of Aethelred’s spies has gone to report your visit. I fear my husband may arrive in a matter of days to assert his authority.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Uhtred and Erik exchange glances.

“Then we will be ready for him, lady. My men and I will support you.” Uhtred’s voice was decisive, and his men nodded in agreement.

Aethelflaed thanked them and then turned the conversation to lighter topics. She was not yet ready to make decisions. The situation seemed impossible now. But she knew that with time, a solution would emerge. Uhtred was a cunning leader who had thought his way to many victories. Erik had a reputation for intelligence and schemes. And Aethelflaed was educated and clever in her own right. Between the group of them, they would find a way to deal with Aethelred.

* * *

The idea came to her in the kitchen. Aethelflaed had stopped by to go over supplies with the cook. Though they had animals on the estate and farms nearby, they ordered in some goods from other estates and towns. Aethelflaed was out of sight in the pantry when two servants came into the kitchen, deep in conversation. People rarely gossiped around Aethelflaed. Some were raised to believe it was impolite; that a lady was above such things. Others simply feared what their mistress would do with such information. But neither servant could see Aethelflaed, so they carried on with their conversation, gossiping about a recently married cousin who was being sent away from Lundene in disgrace, destined for some rural convent. And Aethelflaed knew what to do.

* * *

That night, she changed into her shift and took down her hair, preparing for bed as usual. Estrith came with fresh linens for the bed.

“Anything else, my lady?”

“Yes,” Aethelflaed answered, not looking at her servant, “Fetch Lord Erik. Bring him to me.”

Estrith looked up uncertainly. “To your chamber, lady?”

“Yes, to my chamber.” The girl did not move. “Now, Estrith, and then you will be done your work for the evening.”

Estrith left the room quickly and returned moments later, Erik behind her. Aethelflaed greeted him with a long kiss, unbothered by her servant’s presence. Estrith looked on nervously, and then retreated from the room, closing the door behind her.

Erik looked at Aethelflaed strangely. “What are you playing at, lady?”

“I am going to secure a divorce, on grounds of infidelity.” She took him by the hand and led him to the bed, turning to him with a sly look.“And you are going to help me.”

Erik grinned back at her. “I am happy to be of service, lady.”

* * *

For the next several days, Aethelflaed was bold in her affection. She had Erik brought to her chamber every night, seemingly indifferent to the uncomfortable glances from her servants and the gossip among her men. Estrith was particularly shocked by her lady’s behaviour. She had been raised by nuns and sought a position with a supposedly pious married woman. Now, when she brought water to Aethelflaed’s chamber each morning, she found her lady unashamedly in bed with the fearsome Northman, a heathen. After she burst into tears one morning in the kitchen, Aethelflaed had mercy and transferred the girl to the kitchen duty, finding a less pious servant to take over her role.

Aethelflaed shared her plan with Erik and Uhtred. It was simple and straightforward. Uhtred believed it relied too much on Aethelred’s compliance, but Aethelflaed insisted it would succeed on the basis of her husband’s greed. Erik worried that she was giving up too much, but he waited until they were alone in the intimacy of darkness to express his concern.

“You have already given up everything, Erik,” Aethelflaed insisted, “What I have now is not worth keeping. Not when I have the choice of being with you.”

He did not push further, knowing that she was too stubborn to change her mind. And so they waited for Aethelred’s arrival.


	7. Chapter 7

Aethelred arrived at the estate on a damp, grey afternoon. Aethelflaed was ready, with food and drink laid out to welcome him. When he entered the hall, she greeted him with a smile.

“I had a premonition that you would visit soon, husband. Please, sit and eat. You must be hungry after your journey.”

Aethelred cast a suspicious glance at the food and did not touch it. Instead, he circled the large table to where Aethelflaed sat. He leaned over her so she was forced to crane her neck to look up at him. It was a posture he assumed often when they were alone; he liked to intimidate her, remind her of his relative strength and power over her. But today she seemed unaffected.

“Is there something I can offer you, lord? To make you feel at home?”

Aethelflaed’s steady tone infuriated him.

“Do you think me a fool, lady? Do you think I am so stupid as to sit and dine with my whore of a wife?”

Aethelflaed looked away then, casting a glance at her own servants scattered around the hall. Aethelred grabbed her by the chin, redirecting her gaze to him.

“Do not look away when I am speaking to you. I am here to ask what your business is with the traitor Uhtred Ragnarson and his band of heathens.”

“They are my friends. They have served my father. They are men of Wessex.”

“They are heathens and traitors, and you dishonour Mercia by allowing them to stay here.” He was holding her chin too tightly now and she attempted to pull back. Halig, her guard, started forward, concerned over the small struggle. Aethelred reeled on him.

“Do not approach us. I am speaking to my wife. This matter does not concern you.”

But Halig remained tense, his hand resting on his weapon, and for the first time Aethelred looked nervous. His own guard was outside, still watering their horses. He had entered alone, assuming he could subdue his wife directly as he had in the past.

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her roughly to her feet. She steadied herself for a moment against the table, but soon he was dragging her across the room, headed towards the hallway that led to her chamber. He wished to get her alone.

But just as they reached the exit, someone stepped through it. Erik, wearing his thick leather vest and heavily armed. His long axe was resting across his shoulders and he assumed a posture that was both casual and menacing. He blocked the doorway, ensuring that Aethelred could not drag Aethelflaed from the room.

Aethelred turned away from the doorway, pulling Aethelflaed behind him, but Uhtred and his men were filing in and positioning themselves in front of the other exits. There was no clear way out of the hall.

“Leave us,” Aethelflaed called to her own servants and guard, and they left the hall, slipping past Uhtred’s men. Aethelred still held his wife in a firm grip, but they were stuck in the centre of the small hall, Erik, Uhtred, and the other men spread evenly around them.

“Welcome, cousin. It is nice of you to join us.” Uhtred’s tone was mocking and Aethelflaed felt the grip on her arm tighten as Aethelred tensed.

“You have no business being here, Uhtred,” spat Aethelred.

“This estate belongs to Lady Aethelflaed and she has welcomed me as her guest.”

“I am her husband. I have authority over what occurs in her estate.”

Uhtred shrugged and smiled at the angry man.

“Uhtred is right, lord. I am mistress here. You will not dictate what occurs in my home.” There was a slight waver in Aethelflaed’s voice. She could not quell her fear of Aethelred, not even with all of these trusted warriors so near.

Aethelred tugged his wife to face him and glared down at her. “And what occurs here, Aethelflaed? What could you possibly be doing with all these men, hmm? Plotting against me? Scheming against Wessex? Or perhaps you are not so ambitious. I think you simply hump these vile, brutish Danes, welcoming all these heathens into your bed and between your legs.”

“That is not true, my lord,” she countered calmly, “Finan is not a heathen.”

Finan let out a bark of laughter and she saw slight smiles on the faces of Sihtric and Uhtred. But the joke enraged Aethelred further and he reached out to slap her. She dodged his hand and dove forward, biting down on the arm that held her. Her teeth dug into his forearm and she tried not to gag at the feel of linen cloth on her tongue. Aethelred cried out in pain and released his grip on her arm. Finally free, she stumbled away from him and towards Erik, until she was safe beside the Northman. Aethelred began to follow her, but Erik stepped forward, placing his body between Aethelflaed and her angry husband. He gazed at Aethelred with his hands firmly gripping his axe. Aethelred staggered back into the centre of the hall.

Aethelred began cursing. She could tell he was simply filling time, creating a distraction while he got his bearings and found a way out of his situation. But he spouted vile words about Aethelflaed and she could feel Erik growing more and more tense. Eventually, Erik spoke some words in Danish or Norse, his voice a low growl. Uhtred spoke over him in Danish, raising a hand to quiet Erik, as if disagreeing with him.

Aethelred reeled on Erik. “What did you say?”

Erik grinned at the nervous Saxon. “I said I want to kill you slowly. Send you to your hell where you belong.” Erik eased the axe down from his shoulders and held it lightly in his hand. “I want to make you suffer for the things you have done to Lady Aethelflaed. I think I could make you beg for mercy from–what did you call me?–a vile, brutish Dane. I would enjoy that.”

Aethelred was struggling to maintain his posture. He looked as though he may wet himself in fear. He turned to the other men in the room, as if hoping for support, but the men stared back at him coldly.

Erik sighed audibly and slid his axe back into place on his belt. “But I will not get that pleasure. At least not today, Lord Aethelred. My lady does not want you to die.”

“And what, pray tell, does the lady want?” Aethelred asked, “Why has she surrounded me with enemy warriors if not to kill me?”

“I want you to divorce me,” Aethelflaed responded, “Accuse me of infidelity. We will travel to Winchester to petition the Bishop. Once the divorce is granted, all the Mercian lands in my name will return to you, and we will part ways.”

Aethelred considered her words, then sneered. “I have been insisting on your infidelity for years and I have not been believed. Why do you think I would be believed now?”

“I will provide witnesses,” Aethelflaed said, “as many as you like. My own servants will testify that I brought another man to my bed, more than once. Members of my guard will attest to my guilt. Even Uhtred’s men will confirm my promiscuity.”

“It is true, lord,” Finan interjected, “she is a lady of ceaseless appetites. I have resisted her, good Christian man that I am, but oh the nights that she has begged me to visit her bed.”

Aethelflaed couldn’t help but smile at his dramatic tone. “No need to embellish, Finan. The truth will be proof enough.”

Aethelred ignored Finan’s interruption, addressing his wife again. “And if I refuse?”

“Why would you refuse? You do not care for me. You could be free of me and have my lands all for yourself. It would not even besmirch your reputation, as I will be the one at fault.”

A moment of silence followed, and then Uhtred spoke, “If you refuse, lord, then we will kill you.”

Aethelred scoffed. “I am the Lord of Mercia, Uhtred. Even you could not kill me and get away with it.”

Uhtred shrugged and began to pace towards Aethelred. “Maybe not today, lord. If I killed you today, it would surely look like a murder. But perhaps you are riding home and you are overtaken by brigands on the road. Perhaps one night you drink too much and wander into a blade. Or perhaps you go to sleep in your bed and never wake up. These things happen, even to Lords of Mercia, and it is not always clear who is to blame.” Uhtred was face to face with Aethelred and he stared the Saxon lord down. “If I were in your place, lord, I would seek a divorce. Lady Aethelflaed is showing mercy. More than you deserve. But you are a smart man, even if you are a turd, and you will make the right choice.”

Uhtred gestured to his men and they filed out of the hall. Uhtred and Erik exited last, careful to keep space between Aethelflaed and her husband.


	8. Chapter 8

When they returned to the hall to dine that evening, Aethelred was already seated at the head of the table, waiting for them. Aethelflaed sat at the other end of the table. She felt uneasy facing him, but there were many bodies between them, and the distance was a comfort.

He did not speak until they had all been served.

“I have made my decision. I will petition for a divorce. We will leave for Winchester in the morning.” Aethelflaed felt a flood of relief, but it was cut short when he spoke again, “On one condition: you will spend tonight with me, Aethelflaed. It has been too long since we have shared a bed. We will enjoy one last night as husband and wife.”

Aethelflaed felt nauseous. Of course he would demand this. He took any opportunity to humiliate her. Around the table, the other guests reacted to Aethelred’s demand. Finan lowered his cup, looking uneasily at Uhtred. Uhtred gripped his knife tightly, visibly tensing. Aethelflaed could not look at Erik. She did not have the emotional space to worry about his reaction. She had to trust that he would not make the situation worse.

Aethelflaed took a long, slow sip of ale, trying to calm herself. She placed her cup on the table and stared across at Aethelred, offering him a tight smile.

“Then we are agreed. We will leave early tomorrow. We will bring as many witnesses as you wish.”

Aethelred smiled back at her, and she wondered how she could ever have been fooled by his flimsy facade. She had been so young when they married, naive and hopeful enough to believe he would be a good man and a decent husband.

Aethelred sat back, satisfied that he had made the deal on his own terms, however minor. “A toast, to my lovely wife.” He raised his cup but did not wait for anyone to join him before taking a long swig. Then he grimaced. “This ale is dreadful. It is not brewed here in Mercia, is it? I hate to think my land produces such foul drink.”

Aethelflaed felt Erik’s eyes on her, and she met his gaze and subtly shook her head, attempting to dismiss his concern. She gestured for one of her servants and whispered instructions. The servant left the hall and returned a short time later carrying a fine ceramic jug.

“Lord, may I offer you some wine from Francia?” Aethelflaed asked, as the servant poured a cup for Lord Aethelred. “It was a gift from my father. There is not much left, not enough to serve our guests, but I am certain you will prefer it to the ale.”

Aethelred took the cup and nodded at the servant. “I am sure our “guests” can make do with ale. But you, wife, you should drink with me.”

She detested when he played the doting husband, but it was always best to play along. She smiled and accepted the cup the servant offered. This time, when Aethelred raised his cup in a toast, she joined.

“To the long night ahead,” he smirked. Erik’s cup slammed down on the table, but everyone ignored it. Aethelflaed brought the wine to her lips for a small sip.

Aethelflaed woke the next morning groggy and tired. She knew from the light pouring in through the window that she had slept later than she intended. She should rise and finish the preparations for the journey, but it was hard to rouse her limbs. Next to her in bed, Aethelred lay face down, still in a deep sleep. The sight of him motivated Aethelflaed to rise, if only to get away from his loud breath and disconcerting presence. She dressed quickly, donning a simple gown suited for travelling, and slipped into the hallway.

She almost crashed into Erik, who was standing too close to the chamber door. Still foggy from sleep, Aethelflaed took a moment to recover her balance and focus. She looked up into Erik’s anxious face.

“You look ill, Erik,” she said.

Erik shook his head impatiently. “Of course I do. I barely slept for worrying about you. I should not have left you alone with him.”

Aethelflaed finally recalled the night before and the loathsome deal she had struck with Aethelred. Of course Erik had been concerned.

“It is a pity you did not have some of the Frankish wine, Erik,” Aethelflaed’s tone was playful, “you would have slept soundly. I know Aethelred enjoyed the wine and he has never slept so deeply. Or so quickly.”

Erik looked confused, but then understanding dawned on his face. He breathed a sigh of relief and leaned into Aethelflaed, resting his forehead against hers.

“So you are alright?”

“I am fine,” she assured him. “And within a few days, all will be well.”

“I wish you had told me of your plan.”

“I meant to, but I could not give anything away at the table. He is paranoid at the best of times. I had to accept his offer of the wine, to quell his suspicions, and though I only drank a little it knocked me out too. I could not stay awake long enough to tell you.”

Erik pulled her in for a brief hug. “You are a brilliant woman, Aethelflaed.”

She laughed into this shoulder. “I am a fortunate woman with a trustworthy cook. We set up this scheme many months ago, in case Aethelred should ever visit. I am grateful I had to use it only once.” She stepped back, out of his arms. “You cannot linger here. He will wake up soon and I need everything to go smoothly.”

Erik nodded, but leaned in for one more kiss. “I will see you in Coccham. Until then, be careful, love. Do not trust that man.”

Aethelflaed nodded and rested her hand on his cheek, stroking the stubble of his beard. “And you, be careful on the road. You are not well liked in Wessex or Mercia and someone could make an attempt on your life.”

Erik grinned ruefully. “I am not an easy man to kill, lady.”

She smiled and watched him go, praying that she would see him again.


	9. Chapter 9

Aethelflaed and Aethelred arrived in Winchester with their witnesses: Estrith and another servant, a member of her guard, Osferth, and Finan. Finan would not stand as a witness but was sent to see to Aethelflaed’s safety. Osferth, though Uhtred’s man, was still well-regarded in Wessex and would be trusted if he testified.

Aethelred brought his petition to the Bishop and a hearing was arranged. The morning of the hearing, Aethelflaed felt nervous and almost a touch giddy. Before they entered the hall, she drew close to Osferth.

“You will have to keep me focused today, Osferth. Be sure I look properly ashamed.”

Osferth gave a slight smile. “I will sit in view of you, lady, and if you begin to look too smug or joyful I will signal to you. Two blinks.” He demonstrated and she suppressed a giggle. “Now be careful, lady. That’s two blinks. One blink only means my eyes are dry.”

She squeezed his arm in appreciation. She smoothed her dress, took a deep breath, and entered the hall.

Aethelflaed need not have worried; once the hearing began and Aethelred levelled his accusations, she felt ashamed. Not of her affair with Erik–she could not regret that–but of how far she had strayed from her family’s plan. When she was younger, she had been fully committed to her father’s dream of a united England. She had believed in the superiority of the Saxons and the authority of the church. But she was no longer that innocent, trusting girl. From this day on, there would be an irreparable rift between Aethelflaed and her family. She avoided looking across the room to where her mother sat, not able to confront the immense disappointment in Aelswith’s eyes. As for her father–Alfred said he was too ill to attend the hearing, but she wondered if he could simply not stand to see his beloved daughter fall from grace.

The hearing was mercifully short. Estrith was suitably hysterical, describing Aethelflaed’s blatant infidelity and appealing to the Bishop to forgive her for her small part in it. A member of Aethelflaed’s guard spoke bitterly about Aethelflaed’s betrayal of Mercia and Saxons, and how Aethelred had warned them all of her bad character. He had to be silenced when his words became too vile. Osferth’s testimony was calm and measured, and he confirmed Aethelflaed’s affair in clear but non-judgmental words. Within a short time, the Bishop made his ruling, granting Aethelred a divorce from his unfaithful wife. Though the Bishop could not dictate Aethelflaed’s fate beyond the marriage, he delivered a long speech to her about sin and repentance, and strongly recommended she commit herself to a convent. Aethelflaed did her best to stay calm and not react to his recriminations. At one point, she met Osferth’s eyes, and he blinked twice. She felt a laugh bubble up inside of her and resisted it, reminding herself of all that was at stake.

At long last, they were all dismissed. Aethelred delivered one final sneer in Aethelflaed’s direction. Aelswith crossed the room and flung herself at her daughter, tears in her eyes.

“How could you do this? How could you forsake your marriage?” she sobbed, while Aethelflaed held her up. Then Aelswith gripped her daughter’s arms, her fingers digging into Aethelflaed’s flesh, and her voice became stern. “You have disgraced us, Aethelflaed. You have sinned against your God, your husband, and your family.”

Father Beocca came and led Aelswith away, assuring her that they would pray for Aethelflaed. Aethelflaed was left standing alone in the almost empty hall, shaking. It was done. She was finally free. Instead of relief or joy, she simply felt tired.


	10. Chapter 10

Beocca led Aethelflaed to her father’s chamber, where he was seated at a small table. The taefl board was set up in front of him, and without speaking he gestured to his daughter to sit. Without looking up, he dismissed Father Beocca from the room.

Beocca paused at the doorway. “Should I inform your wife of your game? Perhaps she would like to join you.”

Alfred still did not look up, concentrating on the board in front of him. “No, Beocca. I wish be alone with my daughter.”

Beocca nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

Aethelflaed sat nervously across from her father. They had played hundreds of games of taefl over the years. It had been one of her favourite pastimes when she was younger. She had always felt grateful that Alfred would make time for her among his many responsibilities. What’s more, by playing with her he made it clear that she was worthy of educating, worthy of his time and of his respect. But today, she felt uneasy.

“It feels different, does it not, Aethelflaed?” Alfred’s voice was low but sharp. There was an edge she had not heard before, not when he addressed her. “I fear this will be our final game together.”

Aethelflaed felt tears prick her eyes, but she pushed them back. “I pray you are wrong, father. I pray we will play many games. Perhaps so many games that I eventually win.”

Alfred smiled and she was grateful for the softening of his features. She had not seen him up close until now and the sight pained her. He was gaunt, with dark circles under his eyes. He had never been a stout man but now his cheekbones stood out sharply against his thin face. She still thought of him as her strong, tall, father, capable of riding into battle or speaking to a full hall. But he sat before her, tired and weak.

They began to play and the familiarity of the pieces in her hands relaxed her, until he spoke again. “I wonder what your next move will be.”

Aethelflaed looked up at him sharply. He was not talking about the game.

“Your mother wants you to enter a convent, close to home. But I did not raise you to be a nun.” He sighed and picked up a piece. “Yes, I know, nuns are honourable women who serve their community and God. But you are capable of much more than that, Aethelflaed. Until today, I regretted you were not my son, as you would make a strong leader of Wessex.”

Aethelflaed did not interject. She knew he had more to say and she wanted to hear it.

“But now, child, I wonder if I was mistaken. Could my intelligent daughter really have ruined her life for a man, and a Dane at that?”

Aethelflaed chafed at his words and at the double standard behind them. After all, there was living proof of Alfred’s own infidelities. Aethelred flaunted his mistresses with no repercussions. Even her brother Edward, though still young, was said to have fathered bastard children. But Aethelflaed alone would be punished for her desires.

“Tell me, daughter,” Alfred continued, “Who is this man you brought to your bed? Why was he not brought to Winchester for the hearing?”

“Aethelred did not want to bring him. He believed it would add to his humiliation.”

“And since when do you care what Aethelred wants?”

Aethelflaed took a deep breath, willing herself not to react too harshly. “If you want the truth, father, I will give it to you. But you will not like it.”

Alfred smiled again and met her eyes. “Tell me. I am curious. And I have my spies; the truth will reach me soon enough.”

“Erik Thurgilson.”

Alfred’s smile faltered. He looked surprised. “The man who kidnapped you? Who held you for an obscene ransom? Who put the whole of Wessex and Mercia at risk?”

Aethelflaed held his gaze. “He is the man I have chosen.”

Alfred slammed his fist on the table and the force of it surprised Aethelflaed. He still had strength after all.

He leaned forward and spoke in an angry whisper, “And what of England? What of my dream? Do you care so little for your people, your father, your king?”

Aethelflaed leaned back, as if to escape his ire. “As Aethelred’s wife I was rotting in a far off corner of Mercia. I was not serving my king. I was not building your England. I was a spurned wife of a bitter man. A man who spoke openly against you and who cared only for himself, not for Mercia and certainly not for England. Aethelred is not loyal to you, father, and he will not be loyal to Edward. And when I acted independently he punished me, cruelly and violently. That is not the life I wanted. I chose differently.”

Alfred almost looked chastened, but then he recovered his authority. “And now what, Aethelflaed? You will run off to be some Northman’s whore? You will serve the Danes?”

Aethelflaed shook her head fiercely. “No, father, no. I will be Erik’s wife. If we hold power, we will rule side by side. We will fight for an England that is safe for Saxons and Danes.” Alfred shook his head in disgust, but Aethelflaed continued, her voice pleading. “The Danes have been here too long, father. They have settled among us. We cannot drive them out. If England is to survive, it will have to make space for Danes. We could live in peace. We need not throw away lives in endless battles, not when there is land and food to share. That is my dream. That is what Erik will help me achieve.”

“Erik Thurgilson schemed against me, Aethelflaed. He tried to bankrupt Wessex and Mercia in order to build an army that would destroy me and everything I have accomplished. And he used your life to do it.”

Aethelflaed reached across the table, taking her father’s hand in her own, but he flinched away. “What you do not know, father, is that Erik orchestrated my escape. Yes, he schemed against you, but he changed. He worked with Uhtred to get me safely out of that camp. You thought that the only options were to leave me to a horrible fate or sacrifice your kingdom’s wealth to save me. But because of Erik, because of his love for me, Wessex survives and so do I.” This time, when she reached for his hand, he did not pull away. “I am sorry to have hurt you, father, I truly am. This is not the life I dreamed of. But I have chosen a worthy man who respects me and my people. And I will serve the people of Wessex in any way I can until the day I die. I will honour you, my father, my king, until the day I die.”

It was a long time before Alfred spoke again, but he held Aethelflaed’s hand tightly as he found the words. “I believed I knew everything that occurred in my kingdom. But it seems that I do not. Nevertheless, I cannot approve your actions. You have put your trust in a pagan, and I believe you will live to regret it.”

“And do you, father?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you regret putting your trust in a pagan? Do you regret all that Uhtred has done for you and for Wessex?”

Alfred pulled his hand back and shook his head. “That is enough. I am tired, Aethelflaed. You must leave me.”

Aethelflaed stood, feeling an angry energy course through her. But then she looked at her father, slumped in his chair, so much smaller than he had ever been before, and she softened.

“I love you, father. I will never forget everything you taught me. I will use it to build England.”

He did not acknowledge her statement. After waiting another moment, she turned and left the room. 


	11. Chapter 11

Hild arrived in Winchester late that morning, while Aethelflaed and her parents were at prayer. Aethelflaed was glad to see her old friend enter the chapel. When prayers were finished, Hild was greeted enthusiastically. The Abbess had always maintained her friendship with Uhtred without sacrificing her reputation in Winchester, likely because she convinced Uhtred to build a place of worship in Coccham. Hild and Father Beocca were Uhtred’s tenuous connection to Christianity, and Alfred valued Hild because she may someday bring his best warrior into the church.

And so when Hild explained that she was taking Aethelflaed with her to Coccham, back to her Abbey, Aethelflaed’s parents were relieved. They could trust their disgraced daughter to Hild’s care.

Aethelflaed bid her family farewell. It was best to leave Winchester quickly, before the news of her divorce had spread. For a brief, painful moment, Aethelflaed wondered if she would ever see her father again. There were whispers that he would not live to see another summer. If Aethelflaed were to follow through on her plan, to choose a life with Erik, she would truly be giving up her father. But Alfred had so little time left. And since her marriage to Aethelred, she had drifted apart from her family, even from her father. None of them seemed to recognize her misery with her cruel husband, or worse, they were indifferent to it. She needed to make her own happiness. She needed to be selfish now.

When she embraced Aelswith, her mother held her tightly and whispered in her ear. “Hild’s care is well enough for now, Aethelflaed, but soon we will be wanting you closer to home. There are nunneries in Winchester better suited to a king’s daughter. I will send word for you soon.”

Aethelflaed did not object, though she vowed to herself that she would be gone from Coccham before her mother sent for her.

By the afternoon, they were on their way: Aethelflaed, Hild, Finan, and Osferth. Aethelflaed’s servants and guards stayed behind in Winchester. After all, they belonged to the Mercian estate and to Aethelred; they owed Aethelflaed nothing. On the ride, Hild shared news of the goings on in Coccham: the Abbey was finer than ever, Gisela was with child again, and the harvest had been good. Osferth and Finan entertained Hild with tales of their journey north, Hild interjecting with her own quips. Aethelflaed did not join in. Until she had Erik in her arms again, she could not feel at peace.

It was evening when they rode into Coccham. The night sky hung above them, heavy with stars, and the wind was harsh on their cheeks, though they sheltered their faces under deep hoods. A spire of smoke rose from Uhtred’s great hall and Aethelflaed felt the tension leave her shoulders, which had been braced against the cold. Soon they were in the warm hall, their horses left to the care of the stable master. The fire was blazing in the hearth and Gisela and Uhtred greeted them enthusiastically. Within minutes Aethelflaed was seated by the fire with a heavy blanket around her shoulders and a cup in her hand. Gisela had a talent for hosting; she was determined to make her guests as comfortable as possible. With Aethelflaed settled, Gisela turned to the others: Hild had gone straight to the abbey, but Finan and Osferth were each embraced and seen to by the lady of the house.

Aethelflaed was watching the others so intently that she didn’t notice Erik until he was seated beside her. She threw her arms around him and he hugged her, chuckling at the force of her embrace. She was so cold in his arms and he rubbed her back, trying to drive some warmth back into her. “Are you clinging to me because you are freezing, love? Or are you pleased to see me?”

Aethelflaed eased her hold on him but stayed close. “I am pleased to see you, Erik. It still does not feel real. A part of me worried that it had all been a dream, that you had not really survived.”

Erik put his arm around her shoulder and she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I am real. And if you ever doubt it, I do not mind being fondled.” She frowned up at him and he laughed. “Did it all go smoothly, then? With Aethelred?”

Aethelflaed sighed and stared down at her hands, which were worrying the edge of the blanket. “I suppose it did. The Bishop approved the divorce, but not before my reputation was torn to shreds before my family and my father’s court. Most of my property was granted to Aethelred. I was strongly encouraged to commit myself to a nunnery. And then my father told me I had betrayed him and all the hopes he held for me.” Her hands shook a little where they rested in her lap. She could not forget the look of disappointment in Alfred’s eyes.

“I am sorry, Aethelflaed. I am sorry for everything you lost and I am sorry that I was the cause.”

Aethelflaed shook her head roughly, shaking the tears out of her eyes. Why was she always on the edge of crying? “You are not the cause, Erik. It was an impossible situation. If I had stayed with Aethelred, I would have withered away, and in the process I would have lost my faith in my family and in my father’s dream. Now, at least, I have taken action. You were my motivation, perhaps, but I chose my own path.”

“But you have lost your family, have you not?”

“And so have you. We will be each other’s family. We will make our own happiness.” She relaxed against him, secure against his warm, strong frame. “I have no regrets.”

Erik sighed and held her tighter. “I hope you never do.”

Later that night, while they were laughing and talking around the fire, Erik drew Aethelflaed away, whispering that he had a surprise for her outside. He led her out of the hall to front steps, ignoring Uhtred’s jeers about what they were sneaking off to do.

Once they were sitting in silence on the front steps, Aethelflaed nudged Erik in the ribs. “Have you brought me out to see the moon again, Erik? Because it is not very impressive.”

Erik followed her gaze up to the cloud-covered night sky. “No, something else. Just wait.”

After a moment, Aethelflaed felt something rub against her leg. She looked down to see that Erik’s hand was out, palm up, and he held a small scarp of meat. A cat climbed up to eat from his hand. Aethelflaed gasped.

“You brought her!”

Aethelflaed could see his wide grin, even in the darkness. “Yes, I lured her into a sack with handfuls of bacon. She was not too pleased at first, but I think we have made our peace, eh Gríma?” He scratched under the cat’s chin and she purred at his touch.

“Gríma? She has a name now? I just called her ‘Cat’.”

“Gríma means shadow of night.”

Aethelflaed smiled and reached out, allowing the cat to nuzzle her palm. “That suits her. I have never even seen her in daylight. She could be a squirrel for all I know.”

As if the cat could understand Aethelflaed’s words, Gríma reacted, biting at Aethelflaed’s fingers.

“None of that, now, Gríma,” Erik scolded, picking up the cat and settling her in his lap, “Be a good girl.”

Aethelflaed laughed, delighted by the sight of the small fluffy animal rubbing her nose on the big warrior’s face. “See, Erik? We already have a little family all our own.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost at the end, pals! Thank you for reading.


	12. Chapter 12

The next few days brought a whirlwind of emotions. Aethelflaed was elated to be with Erik and comforted by the company of Uhtred, Gisela, Hild and the others. But she was also lonely for a life she had lost years before: her childhood in Winchester and the nearness of her family. She could hardly sleep, but it did not matter, as she stayed up late with Erik, making love and making plans.

They had a room in the abbey all to themselves and Hild was respectful of their privacy. But Aethelflaed knew that they could not overstay their welcome, not least of all because her mother’s people would come calling, seeking her out and to ensure she was dutifully repenting for her sins. She wondered if Alfred had told Aelswith the extent of their daughter’s betrayal. If he had, she would have received an angry letter by now, or a visit from a priest. Alfred must have kept Erik’s identity to himself.

But it would not stay a secret. Gossip moved faster than the wind. Soon people across Wessex and Mercia would know the truth: that their beloved princess had abandoned her marriage to be with her heathen captor. Aethelflaed wanted to be gone, to be away from it all for a while. That would mean leaving Coccham and their friends.

Less than a week after Aethelflaed’s arrival, she and Erik prepared to leave, piling two horses with their meagre belongings. This time, Gríma refused to be stowed in a sack, but she was small enough to ride in the hood of Erik’s cloak or to settle on the saddle bags. Aethelflaed was mildly disappointed – but not at all surprised – to find that the cat was deeply in love with Erik and would choose him over Aethelflaed every time, though she still accepted attention from Aethelflaed if Erik was occupied.

They said their goodbyes to the residents of Coccham, Aethelflaed taking time to thank all of Uhtred’s men for their help in dealing with Aethelred. Gisela reminded them that they were always welcome in her home. Hild offered her prayers for a safe journey. Finally, Uhtred held out his arms as if to embrace Aethelflaed, but when she drew near he poked her in the ribs.

“Make sure that she eats, eh, Thurgilson? If you are not careful she will grow too thin and blow away on the wind.”

Aethelflaed shoved Uhtred playfully and he pulled her into a hug.

“Thank you, Uhtred. For this gift. And for helping me. I hope it does not make my father angry with you.”

Uhtred rolled his eyes. “Alfred is never truly happy with me, lady. He can add this to the list of the many ways I have failed him. I am sure there is a real list, Aethelflaed, drawn up by one of his priests.”

She laughed, knowing he was likely correct.

“Remember what Gisela said. There is always a place for you here. For both of you.”

Aethelflaed nodded, feeling a rush of love for this fierce warrior.

“And you, Uhtred. You can count on us. Should we ever have wealth or land or men again, rest assured we will be your allies.”

Aethelflaed looked to Erik for confirmation and he agreed. “Of course, Lord Uhtred. We are in your debt.”

Uhtred smirked. “I like to have smart people in my debt. It comes in handy when I do stupid things.” His face grew more serious. “You will go to Ragnar first?”

Erik nodded. “Of course. I think we should stay out of battles and politics for a while, but we will go to Ragnar, see what he has to say about us settling in the north. And when you reclaim your land, Uhtred of Bebbanburg, we will be by your side.”

The two warriors embraced. Aethelflaed and Erik mounted their horses, Gríma hopping up to settle alongside her beloved Northman. They rode through the gates of Coccham.

“It is a fine day for riding,” Aethelflaed said, looking up at the clear sky.

“And even finer company.”

Aethelflaed rolled her eyes at Erik. “There is no more need for flirting, Erik Thurgilson. I am already yours.”

Erik smiled, his eyes squinting against the bright sunlight. “I cannot think I deserve you, Lady of Mercia. The gods have smiled upon me. Or perhaps it is your god? I will be sure to thank them all, once we are safe and settled.”

Aethelflaed spurred her horse, following her husband north.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This has been a fun sweet little story to write. I'll be getting back to the longer story eventually, but the action scenes are tough. Props to Cornwell for writing such great battles.

**Author's Note:**

> Taking a little break from my other fic for–you know it–more Aethelrik content. Will write these two being gentle with each other forever and ever.


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